Bad Boy Roomie (The Bad Boy Roomie Romance Series Box Set)

by Claire Adams

  She’s in her shirt and panties, and as much as I don’t like that “we’ve got to be quick,” I’m more than happy to take what I can get.

  Mia pulls me a little closer, and my hands move over her body, one settling around her shoulders while the other slips between her legs.

  “Damn,” I whisper as I feel the hot wetness of her.

  “Come on,” she says. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  With that, she lets go of me and I let go of her. She opens her bottom drawer and pulls out the folded pair of pants she hides her condoms inside, pulling one out of the box before handing it to me.

  “We’ve learned that when you get out of your head, you can do things you never thought you could do. Open this,” she says and hands me the condom.

  “All right,” I tell her, “but if you run out of natural lubrication before I get this thing open, we’re both going to be pretty upset about it.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “So hurry.”

  I take a quick look at the condom wrapper and easily open it.

  “What the hell was that?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I tell her, “I’ve got to level with you: These things are really easy to open.”

  “You are such a jerk,” she says, taking the now open condom wrapper out of my hand, removing the condom and replacing the wrapper back between my fingers. “But we don’t have time for me to yell at you right now for it,” she says and slides the condom onto me.

  “I’m glad to see you’re taking things so well in stride,” I tell her.

  “I’m just really horny,” she says. “You’re not off the hook for anything, but for right now, I want to feel you inside me and I want you to make me come. After that, I can reconsider being mad at you.”

  “Maybe I’ll just wait then,” I tell her. “If making you come is going to give you permission to be angry at me, I don’t really see my motivation here.”

  “Yeah,” she says, putting her lips close to my ear, “all that’s going to do is get me mad a lot sooner.”

  “Fair enough,” I laugh, and she giggles as she grabs my wrist, guiding my hand between her legs.

  Mia’s black hair hangs as she throws her head back when my fingers reach her center. She’s slick to the touch, and I kiss her lips before sliding two fingers inside her.

  “Whoa,” she titters and I pull my hand back.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  “Fine,” she laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting the second one. Ya kind of caught me by surprise there.”

  I smile and kiss her forehead. “Sorry about that,” I tell her.

  “Oh no,” she says, shaking her head. “It was nice. I just didn’t know it was coming.”

  She grabs my hand and puts it back where it was.

  “Where were we?” she asks.

  She lets go of my cock and wraps her arms around my neck as I first slide one, and then another finger into her. Now that she’s expecting it, her muscles tense and she takes in a deep breath, her eyes closed.

  Now, with the condom on and both of us primed, I put both my hands around Mia’s back and pull her close, walking slowly backward toward the bed.

  I reach the edge and sit down. The plan was to lie down, but Mia climbs on top of me and puts her hands on my shoulders, encouraging me to stay in a sitting position.

  She presses her body against mine and reaches down between her legs, grabbing my cock from between mine and setting my tip against her dripping gap.

  I put my arms behind myself and lean back a little, aiding the process as she lowers herself onto me, bit by bit, until I’m in her down to my base.

  Mia rocks her hips as she leans back, and I watch her supple breasts pulse as she rides me harder now.

  “We do have to be quick,” she says in a whisper so near silent that I have to strain to hear her.

  With one hand, I pull the front of her shirt down, securing it beneath her breasts. Putting both arms around her now, I settle my hands on her lower back, supporting her as I lean forward to kiss her soft mounds.

  Her skin grows even hotter in my mouth, and the springs in her mattress are really starting to creak.

  I just hope her dad’s really not home. He seemed like a peaceful kind of guy, but walking in on something like this has persuaded a lot of otherwise gentle souls to perform some pretty heinous acts.

  I really can’t think about that now, though. Mia said we had to be quick and from the tempo and depth of her breathing and the eagerness with which she’s riding me, she’s not too far from done, and I don’t want to go to this demo all backed up.

  Sure, I will if I have to, but it just makes things that much more difficult out on the pavement.

  “Oh my god,” she moans, bringing me back to the moment.

  “Are you close?” I ask, kissing between her breasts before leaning back again.

  “Don’t move,” she says. “Just stay right…”

  She lets out a guttural moan, and her breath comes in short bursts as I can feel her tightening around me.

  If I was worried about not coming before, I’m past that now, as the look and feel of Mia’s pending climax catapults me skyward and I feel my own body begin to come alive, ready to come with her.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe, my body responding to her with such urgency that I can hardly process the surge of ecstasy running through my body.

  Her arms are around me tight, now and I can feel her heart racing through both our chests as she kisses me hard, her tongue halfway in my mouth before I can even react.

  As always, we’re close, but not quite on the same page as my body starts to shudder just as hers starts to calm, only I don’t hit that peak when I think I’m going to, I just shoot right past it, the pleasure its own entity moving through my entire body until that moment when… everything… fades… away.

  I embrace Mia, as we both try to catch our breath and, together, we fall haphazardly onto the bed.

  “You know,” she says, between deep breaths, “sometimes I wonder how you can physically skate carrying that thing around between your legs.”

  I just laugh and hold her close. The last thing on my mind right now is skating.

  * * *

  “We’re too early,” I tell her. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Go?” she asks as we pull up to the demo, two towns away at the Richfield Community Skate and Ride.

  It’s a lot more inspiring before you know the name of the park.

  “We can’t go, we just got here, and we’ve only got twenty minutes before this thing starts,” Mia says. “We’ll be lucky if we can get you to the start area by then, and don’t you have to check in or something?”

  “Yeah, but could we just drive around for a little bit?” I ask.

  “You’re nervous!” she gasps. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You’ve seen me nervous,” I tell her (nervously). “What’s the big deal?”

  “Okay, I’ve seen you nervous,” she says, “but this is a whole new level of scaredy cat I wasn’t anticipating.”

  “Oh, ha, ha,” I mock. “So, can we get out of here or what?”

  “Got your board?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  “Got your pads or do they give those to you?” she asks. “You know, you really should have let me help you pack.”

  “No,” I tell her. “I had to go into my dad’s house, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with that. I didn’t want to deal with that, but I haven’t really been back to pick up any of my stuff.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been wondering why you’ve been alternating between the same three or four outfits since you moved in with Rob,” she teases.

  “All but one of them are his,” I tell her. “Fuck, now I’m all freaked out because I’m going to have to go back at some point and deal with my dad. You know, for a student of psychology, you’re really not helping here.”

  “Hey!” she protests, “who’s the one that finally got you past your mental block
on the ramp?”

  “I did,” I tell her. “You may have provided the guidance, but I did the work.”

  “That’s how psychology is supposed to work!” she exclaims.

  “Well, it’s not working now, I can tell you that much,” I mutter and look out the window.

  Yeah, we’re really cutting it close. I’m really hoping to have the decision made for me, only when it happens, it doesn’t happen in the way I expect.

  “You know,” she says, “I never paid up.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “That day we went to the park and I was trying to convince you to take three more runs,” she says.

  “Oh, that’s right,” I answer. “That was the day you told me that you didn’t think we were going to work out. Thanks, now I’m worried about how solid our—”

  “Oh, quit your stalling and get out of the car,” she says, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out, herself.

  She shuts the door and now I’m sitting in Mia’s dad’s car by myself.

  It’s nice and quiet in here. Things are so much simpler in this car. Maybe I can just stay here until the demo’s over and then I won’t have to trash my future by trying to drop in in front of a couple hundred people today.

  If that plan had any wings, though, they’re effectively clipped as Mia makes her way to the outside of my door and pulls on the handle.

  She lets go, frustrated.

  “Let go of the handle,” she says through the window.

  “What?” I mouth. “I can’t hear you.”

  I know we’ve gone past the realm of nerves into a near-complete age regression, but I do not want to get out of this car. It has a nice, minty aroma that I find rather soothing. How could anyone be so callous as to want to pull me away from such a thing?

  The back passenger’s door opens and Mia grabs the duffel bag containing my pads, two beers, and my victory joint.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m giving away your stuff,” she says. “Apparently, it looks like you’re not going to be using it, so I thought we could make some kid really happy.”

  “Yeah, very funny,” I mock, but when she drops the duffel bag on the ground next to her and grabs my board, I try to lunge and grab it.

  “Oh, looks like someone’s starting to take me seriously,” she says. “How about you get out of the car and go win this thing?”

  “It’s not a competition,” I tell her. “Well, technically it is, but the winner doesn’t get anything but a little plaque and a picture in their advertising for the next year.”

  “Sounds pretty sweet,” she says, dangling my board. “Now, are you coming, or am I going to have to walk over there and see if that young man would like some free gear that used to be owned by a former-almost-pro?”

  “Fine,” I tell her and I unbuckle my seatbelt. I get out and take the board from her. “Oh, was she mean to you?” I ask my skateboard, cradling it like I’m burping an infant.

  “I can’t believe I let you put your thing in me,” she says with a scoff and shuts the back door, locking it with her key fob.

  We’re making our way to the front, and I’m hoping Mia can’t hear the guy on the loudspeaker announcing that competitors have only five more minutes to check in for the demo.

  “What were you going to say before?” I ask.

  “When?”

  “You were talking about when we were at the skate park and I didn’t want to—” I start.

  “Oh, right,” she says. “I never gave you your reward. I told you I was going to make it worth your while if you tried three more times and, well you did, so I guess I owe you that reward.”

  “You weren’t just going to say that and leave it there, though, were you?” I ask. “I mean, why bring it up now if that’s all you were going to say about it?”

  “Well,” she says, “I was considering offering you an even bigger reward on top of that one for going through with the exhibition today, but you’ve really been less than easy to work with, so I don’t think I’m going to do that.”

  “Oh, come on,” I tell her. “Look, I’m already on my way in.”

  “Nope,” she says. “You blew it.”

  “At least tell me what you were going to—” I start, but I don’t get a chance to finish.

  “Ian?” a familiar voice calls from nearby. “Ian Zavala?”

  Oh shit.

  I turn to find Nick and Rob walking toward the entrance.

  “Oh my god!” Nick says, throwing his hands above his head. “I can’t believe—it is Ian Zavala!”

  “Yeah, man,” Rob chimes in, “will you sign my balls?”

  “Really great, guys,” I say, glad that I’m now almost certain to be well out of running distance, should Mia realize just how little time I have left to get signed in. “Really, you’re very clever.”

  “I’ve got all your magazines. Seriously,” Nick says, “you’re living with Rob now, man. You really need to get your porn out of my hou—oh, hey!” he says, acknowledging Mia’s presence. “I’m Nick, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Nick, Ian’s attractive friend, and you are…?”

  “I’m Mia,” Mia answers, extending her arm to shake Nick’s hand.

  Exactly how the two of them have never been properly introduced eludes me, but the farther I can keep Nick from Mia, the better. It’s not that I don’t like the guy, I just don’t want either of them exchanging embarrassing stories about me.

  I’m really not so worried about Mia. Apart from my vert troubles, of which Rob and Nick are very aware, Mia’s never really seen me do anything to humiliate myself.

  Nick, on the other hand…

  “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be checked in and all that shit already?” Nick asks.

  “He’s probably just trying to bitch out of it,” Rob says.

  “What exactly does it mean to ‘bitch out’ of something, Rob?” I ask. “What’s the etymology on the phrase?”

  “Are we really that close to time?” Mia asks. “I knew my dad didn’t set the clock for the right time.”

  He didn’t. I set it ahead ten minutes when I was loading up my gear and she was finishing getting ready to go.

  “What time is it?” Mia asks.

  Rob looks at his watch while Nick looks at Mia, and I can see the little fucker salivating over the chance he thinks he’s going to get to make me look like an idiot in front of her.

  “A couple minutes after four,” Rob says. “You’re fucked, bro.”

  “Nah,” Nick says, still looking at Mia with that crooked little smile he gets when he’s about to spill something. “I got it.”

  “Got what?” I ask, but Nick doesn’t answer. He just pulls out his phone.

  “Hey, slut, what’s up?” he asks, and I’m turning to Mia, mouthing an apology.

  She waves me off and looks back toward Nick.

  “Yeah, I got a buddy who was supposed to get his ass here like an hour ago, but he’s… Yeah, he’s signed up and everything, he just needs to get checked in,” Nick says. “Any chance you could do us a favor?”

  “It’s already after four,” I tell Mia. “I’m sorry I took so long in the car like that.”

  “Yeah, his name is Ian Zavala,” Nick says. “Z-A—hey Ian,” he says, turning to me, “how do you spell your last name?” Before I can go to answer, though, he presses his phone harder against his ear, saying, “You’ve got it? Awesome, we’re coming through the front now. Just hold the start. You’re the best, mom.”

  “That was your mom?” Mia asks.

  “Yeah,” Nick says. “When I started getting into boarding, she started looking around for inroads. That’s my mom’s thing, man,” he says. “She may not be an expert at most things, but she can dig her way into any business and, once she’s there, she always gives me the hookup. She’s been an outside investor in this place for years, man. She says the word and shit gets done, you—”

  “I think she was a
sking because you started the conversation with, ‘slut,’” I interrupt to tell him.

  “Dude, don’t call my mom a slut,” Nick says, shaking his head and taking one too many steps toward me. “That’s not cool.”

  He’s about an inch from my face, and I’m not sure whether he’s serious or not—it’s often difficult to tell with him.

  “Nah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya,” Nick says and pats my cheek. “Now get your ass in there.”

  “He hasn’t signed my balls yet,” Rob says.

  You know, apart from his willingness to let me crash at his place even after we beat the crap out of each other, I’m really having a difficult time remembering why I’m still friends with Rob.

  As much as I’m dreading the vert portion of the demo—why the hell did I even sign up for it?—I don’t think I’m going to be able to stall my way out of this any longer.

  “Go,” Mia says. “I’ll see you when you’re done. You’re going to do great.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter and get on my board.

  I can do this. It’s not such a big deal.

  As long as I just keep telling myself that, maybe it’ll become the truth.

  Once I’m through the gate, it’s easy enough to see where I need to go and so I skate over to the start area while a woman’s voice comes over the loudspeaker, seeming to thank everyone that had ever made any sort of contribution—financial or otherwise—to the skate park.

  That must be Nick’s much-fabled mom.

  Even knowing the guy for years, I’ve still never met anyone in his family, though apparently he has a big one.

  I get to the start area and a big guy, also with a clipboard, stops me, saying, “I’m sorry, this area’s for skaters only.”

  “Yeah,” I tell him, “I’m on the list: Ian Zavala.”

  “Check in for skaters ended almost ten minutes ago,” the man says. “Sorry, bud. You missed your chance with this one.”

  Well, I tried. Not only that, but Mia tried, too. Even Nick and his mom tried, but oh well. I guess that’s that.

  “Wait,” the guy says. “What was the last name?”

  “Zavala,” I answer. “I know I’m late. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

  “No, man,” he says, stepping out of the way, “I’m sorry. Yeah, Kara told us you’d be coming. Your number’s right here,” he says and lifts the top page of his clip board and producing two squares of paper with the number 2311 on them.